Letters
by Litterae
Summary: The teachers' correspondence over the half-term break would make the students' heads spin.
1. Chapter 1

Dear Miss Cackle,

If I may be frank (and I shall take that liberty, for it is widely known that a letter won't blush), I must admit that I was quite shocked when I received your message in the middle of half-term.

My worries were, sadly, not proven unjustified upon learning the content.

They say that the future does not come suddenly, but is just a repetition of what already happened.  
In this case, the old saying holds true once again, though one would have thought that people had learned from past disasters.  
It is true, without a doubt, that the school's finances aren't what they ought to be, and haven't been for some time, but is such a fact, such a _long-known_ fact, really enough of a reason for our esteemed school governors to seriously consider reviving an experiment which, as both parties can confirm, has failed miserably just a year ago?

It should not be forgotten, Headmistress, that Mr. Hallow himself acknowledged the impracticability of tutoring young witches and wizards under the same roof, upon receiving our report. I am finding it hard to believe that this should have escaped his memory already. Have we not been clear enough in our description of failed co-taught lessons, of diametrical curricular priorities, of _fraternization_ going on?  
I would be grateful to be enlightened as to the Grand Wizard's reaction to the governors' newest plan of brilliance. I daresay Messieurs Hallow and Boilbroth will find themselves a few appendages short after that particular conversation.

In the meantime, I must urge you to remain calm. We must not get ahead of ourselves and lose our heads in a flurry of panic:  
I understand that it is still early days, and nothing unfinished can be the measure of anything. With the necessary (and hopefully scheduled) discussions, I am positive that catastrophe can be averted.  
If not, there are always measures to be taken when all else fails.

Cordially,

Constance Hardbroom

* * *

A/N: I desperately needed to break my writer's block, so here we are. Will probably be updated sporadically. *hides*


	2. Chapter 2

My dear Miss Cackle,

Words cannot express, dearest colleague, the feeling of distress that befell me during my latest conversation with my school's governors, my old chums Harold Hayweed and Barty Batbender.

Right after slurping my good Earl Grey and devouring the delicious baked goods that you were kind enough to send my cook the recipes of, they dabbed their mouths with the napkins my great-grandmother lovingly embroidered for my grandmother's 16th birthday, and they told me, flat out, that they were considering joining our two schools, for good.

Imagine my outrage, dear Miss Cackle. It was only through my great personal restraint, which I have attained in many a battle, that I could keep myself from destroying the Ancient Frengwa of Moomph, which I acquired, as you surely remember, during my quest for the lost spells of the Great Garebo.

And their reasons! Finances! Pah. Never in my whole, adventurous life have I been asked to care about finances. I ask you, my dear, would the Duke of Humpwuddle have ended our quest for his father's enchanted breeches due to finances? Would my dear friend, Karli Korgenroff, have ended his search for the Stone of Khaangh due to finances? Surely not!

I proceeded to voice my displeasure to old Harry and Bart who, I may add, had the good graces to blush and refrain from gulping any more of those delicious pastries.  
They were most anxious to escape my formidable wrath and hurried to assure me that surely, your esteemed governor Mr. Hallow would be able to provide me with more information.

The matter being as it is, however, I hesitate to contact Mr. Hallow directly following a rather unpleasant event two years ago involving a shape changing contest – that began in good spirits, I assure you! – ending in disaster. The disaster, I am afraid, was more on good Mr. Hallows side, and it pains me to admit that at the time, I was not quite as much of a gracious winner as I usually am – just think of the clemency I displayed after my victory over Harawald the Heringue! – and shamelessly revelled in my admittedly overwhelming victory. Mr. Hallow really should stop relying on all this ecreltonical nonsense and return to the proper wizarding ways. It would have spared him this shameful defeat, at least!  
Anyway, as I was saying, after this incident, I am hesitant to approach him in my position of need, and rather prefer to turn to you, esteemed colleague and companion in these troubled times, to provide me with all the necessary information.

Please give my regards to your esteemed colleagues.

Most cordially yours,

Egbert Helibore, Grand Wizard, Headmaster of Camelot College, Advisor to kings and Conqueror of Dragons


End file.
